Cold Coffee
by MetaBlade
Summary: He still sees the jester's face in his sleep, sometimes. (Post-Super Paper Mario)


**A/N: I'm on a rare writing spree, so here's another oneshot from me! This one is post-Super Paper Mario (my favourite Mario game of all time) and is fairly similar (in my opinion) to my other oneshot titled _Little Light._ I just had an urge to write some hurt/comfort and this is the result. I'm also planning on eventually writing more SPM stories.**

 **P.S. FanFiction is still eating all my reviews, meaning they don't display anywhere on the site. I can still read all reviews in my email, though.**

 **Enjoy!**

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COLD COFFEE

It was that time of night again.

He opened his eyes blearily, not seeing much besides the blurred shape of his red cap sitting a few inches in front of his face. He absently stretched out a finger to touch the old, worn fabric, as if it were a teddy bear or a comfort blanket.

Behind his back, the sounds of somebody ruffling up their bedcovers and rolling out onto the floor, stumbling with drunken steps towards the kitchen doorway reached his straining ears. He twitched and contemplated going back to sleep - just closing his eyes like he did every night and pretending nothing was going on - but instinct and worry fought against his exhaustion.

This was the fourth time in a row that he'd heard Luigi getting up in the dead of night and heading out of the room, and this time he was determined to find out what his brother was up to.

He pushed aside his desire to simply pull the warm covers over his head and drift off to sleep again, and with a groan Mario climbed out of bed and set off, padding quietly on bare feet to the darkened kitchen.

Mugs clinking together in the near silence drew his attention over to the sink as soon as he entered. Brows knitting together in a slight frown of confusion, Mario reached up and blindly groped for the lightswitch on the wall, finding it and flicking it on with an audible snap. Bright light flooded the kitchen, making him wince and grind his knuckles into his now-burning eyes. But in the brief moment of being able to see, he'd found himself surprised at the scene lying before him.

Luigi, in his fluffy emerald-green dressing gown and fluffy green slippers, stood by the sink sipping some mediocre-looking coffee from a chipped blue mug, his gaze fixed on his brother despite the fact that he was squinting painfully at the sudden onset of light. When Mario's eyes adjusted and he could finally look up, he was even more startled to see a grim, tired half-smile playing at the corner of Luigi's mouth.

'Yes,' he said, raising the mug in what was presumably a gesture of greeting before taking another long draught. 'I'm here again.'

The simple words shot an unfamiliar pang of uneasiness through Mario, but he deliberately kept his face calm - or tried to, at least - as he sauntered over to the coffee machine and helped himself to the leftovers of Luigi's hastily-made beverage. 'Why do you keep getting up so late?' he asked casually. _Stay cool,_ he told himself, sipping the cold coffee and struggling not to cringe at the taste. _Something's up and I need to find out what it is._

Beside him, Luigi shrugged. He looked troubled for a second or two, but then his expression settled back into an unnerving picture of blankness. As if he didn't even care about anything Mario had to say.

'Oh, no reason really,' he replied, looking down at his own slippered toes. 'I just wanted something to drink.'

'Right.' Mario nodded and leaned back against one of the kitchen counters, letting his eyelids slide shut as he forced a little of the disgusting coffee down his throat. He was so tired it felt as if the world was spinning dazedly around him, threatening to fall into darkness at any moment, leaving him in an empty void.

'But why every night?' he questioned. A worrying thought struck him that he knew he had to voice. 'Luigi, you're not... ill or anything, are you?'

'No!' The reply came so swiftly he was almost convinced it had to be a hasty denial, and forced himself to look directly into the younger man's face for proof. But the only thing visible in Luigi's eyes was surprise - and the forbidding black circles that hung heavily beneath them.

Mario pressed his advantage. 'Then what is it? Come on, Luigi, I can tell something's not right here. _Fratello...'_ He abruptly switched to their first language in the hopes that it would make Luigi understand that he was serious about this, that he really cared... 'I'm worried about you.'

A hint of something undefinable flashed through his brother's expression, gone too quickly for him to make any attempt to analyse it. Then Luigi's shoulders slumped and his hands flopped to his sides, the coffee mug dropping from his lax grip and shattering, with a frighteningly loud noise, onto the kitchen floor.

Mario jumped back slightly and bit his lip to stop himself from yelping out loud as sharp pieces flew towards him like little bullets. The rest of the mug had smashed around Luigi's feet. For a moment they both stood there in silence and eyed the hundreds of tiny, glass-sharp grains glittering like spilled sugar all over the floor. Then Mario shook himself back to reality.

Cautiously, he stretched out a hand with the intention of placing it on Luigi's arm; he didn't dare move a step closer with all the broken shards lying between them. 'Bro?' he questioned softly, his fingers meeting the resistance of the younger man's fur-covered shoulder.

Almost as soon as he made contact, Luigi swung away as if the touch burned him. Suddenly animated, he glanced around quickly before gingerly stepping over the shattered mug and hurrying towards the doorway. Mario followed - careful to avoid cutting his bare feet open - and without either of them needing to say a word, they both headed for the couch in the living room.

'So,' Mario prompted as they sat down side-by-side. He was too worried to relax, and settled for perching his weight on the edge of his seat instead. 'What's got into you, Bro? Listen...' He dropped his voice. 'I think I already know what this is all about.'

Luigi glanced up quickly. There was a glint of relief visible in his eyes. 'You do?'

'Uh-huh. Is it about _him?'_ Mario hesitated, swallowed, then forced himself to finish. 'Dimentio?'

Immediately the younger man concealed a little shudder and seemed to fold in upon himself, his too-thin body swallowed up by his fluffy dressing gown. Mario watched, concerned that even the mention of the word 'Dimentio' could affect his brother this severely. Why hadn't he noticed until now that something was wrong? Why hadn't he followed Luigi the very first night he'd heard him getting up to make coffee? No, he hadn't done a single thing; he'd lain in bed and gone back to sleep as if he didn't care.

Now he needed to make amends for his lack of action, for his stupid mistakes.

'Want to talk about it?' he asked quietly, hoping that Luigi would feel better if he got some of his built-up stress off his chest.

The other man let out a tired chuckle and shook his head. 'It wouldn't help,' he murmured. 'I already talked about it with Daisy and that didn't help.'

'When?' Mario persisted. He knew he should be feeling betrayed that Luigi had spoken to Daisy first instead of him, but at the same time he knew he'd done nothing to deserve his brother's trust.

Luigi tugged at his oversized sleeves and thought about it for a moment. '...Yesterday,' he mumbled. 'She knew something was up, and she'd heard all about our latest adventure, so I told her everything. She was great, Bro. I felt much better after talking with her, but then tonight, when I tried to go to sleep, it all came rushing back.' He shuddered again and Mario had to resist the instinctive urge to pull his younger brother into a hug. 'Every time I close my eyes, I see his face, a grinning mask with horrible eyeless holes boring into me. It was driving me mad, I couldn't do it anymore. So I... haven't slept very well lately.'

He laughed, a dry bitter sound that morphed into a hacking cough at the end. 'What I mean is, I haven't slept at _all.'_

Mario was jolted out of his stunned silence. 'You haven't slept for four nights?' he exclaimed, much louder than he'd intended to. His voice echoed in the dark living room, and Luigi flinched. It was the only word he could use to describe the way his brother jerked back automatically from him, scared of something that they both knew didn't exist anymore. And even as he opened his mouth to apologise for shouting he understood exactly what Luigi's problem was.

He was terrified that it would all happen again. That Dimentio would somehow arise from the dead and use his power to turn him into 'Mr L', the mindless entity that would lash out against Mario, Daisy, and everyone else he loved in a heartbeat. 'That's what you're afraid of,' he mumbled. 'Why in the world didn't I figure it out?'

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Luigi raise his head and glance up curiously, taking in everything he was saying. 'That evil jester...' he continued, hardly even aware of _what_ he was saying. 'He tried to turn you into a villain, tried to force me to kill you... What if he succeeded, Bro? What if me and Bowser and Peach had no choice but to destroy you, all because of what Dimentio did?'

He heard Luigi draw in a slow, ragged breath before answering, his voice cracking from the strain of staying level. 'You would have moved on eventually,' he whispered. 'You might have been sad at first, but after a while, you would've forgotten me. And everyone else would have just remembered me as _him..._ The puppet, the evil man in green.' He let out a tiny choking sound and couldn't seem to carry on.

Mario turned, gripped both of his shoulders and pulled him around roughly so that they were forced to look into each others' eyes. He was gritting his teeth painfully, but couldn't make himself stop.

'Luigi,' he said with utter seriousness, 'I would _not_ have forgotten about you if you died. If I'd killed you back there, then I would have killed myself afterwards.' There was nothing in his tone that suggested he was lying. Luigi gazed back at his brother mutely for a long moment, blinking rapidly.

'I-I...' he faltered, but Mario shook his head, cutting him off.

'I mean it. You're my little bro, and if that monster ever does manage to come back, I'll protect you somehow. I won't let him get to you again. I swear it.'

Without thinking, he acted on his earlier impulse and drew the younger man into a brotherly embrace. At first Luigi stiffened in his arms and tried to pull back, but it only took a few seconds for his remaining barriers of self-control to break down and reveal just how much tension he'd been hiding from the world.

Even Mario himself was surprised by how forcefully Luigi clutched at him, his body shaking silently with a sudden onset of tears that he could barely hold back. Sensing how much he needed to let out his feelings, Mario pulled him in tighter and started to murmur reassuring nonsense in his ear. And then, finally, he heard the sobs. It was the first time he'd actually seen Luigi cry since the day they had been reunited in the Underwhere, and it was obvious he'd been bottling everything up, terrified of showing what he considered a weakness in front of anyone besides his girlfriend Daisy.

But Mario was determined to prove that he could be relied upon as well. He'd failed Luigi before, by not realising soon enough that something was wrong and not acting upon it even when he finally did notice. Now guilt was coursing like hot lava through his body as the soft, restrained sobs over his shoulder told him just how much his little brother had been suffering while Mario himself hadn't done a thing to help.

 _Well, it's different now,_ he told himself savagely, fully believing it. _I'm not going to let anyone down again, least of all him. He deserves a better brother than me..._

With this in mind, he continued to hug Luigi tightly, rocking him slowly back and forth like they'd done when they were children. Throughout all of this he kept up a steady stream of soft, murmured reassurances, mostly nonsense, some English and some Italian, until he felt the body in his arms begin to go limp at last. Gradually the heaving sobs subsided and then ceased altogether.

He continued holding onto Luigi until he was certain his brother had fallen asleep. Very carefully so not to wake him up, Mario lay him on the couch where he could continue sleeping with a measure of comfort. That was all he could do right now; he doubted that he could carry Luigi all the way to his bed in the other room, at least not without disturbing him.

'I'm not gonna let you have nightmares anymore,' he said gruffly, easing himself up off the couch and sinking into the huge armchair beside it so Luigi could have more room. 'I've been a useless brother, but I'll make it up to you, Bro... somehow.'

He closed his eyes and, completely worn out from the emotional events of that night, was dead to the world within seconds.

Luigi slept on peacefully, for once untroubled by memories of the Underwhere, Dimentio, and his evil alter-ego. They had both suffered through hard times, but they would pull through and recover together, no matter how long it took.


End file.
